


Long and Forgotten

by Lyk0s



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, M/M, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, POV First Person, POV Will Graham, Will Graham Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Will Graham Needs a Hug, Will Graham is a Cannibal, just let the man sleep already
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 10:34:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29873337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyk0s/pseuds/Lyk0s
Summary: Will Graham has been assigned to a case regarding "The Orb Weaver", a female serial killer that focuses on mutilating the phalluses of men. However, his therapist seems to be interested in both the case and Will's more personal life. Will then finds it difficult to handle both his clingy therapist and the case at hand, and just wants to get both over with as soon as possible.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Long and Forgotten

  
I step into one of the white, glazing pews- a stark contrast from the dark pillars and floor of the building. Black-stained walnut- almost too dark to see the edges of the room. I draw a breath as I take my seat. My nostrils flare as my eyelashes flutter. The scent of frankincense is practically strong enough to seep out of the cracks between the paint and wood like the sap of a tree when struck. I open my eyes to see the lower half of a man impaled on a stake. His legs dangle barely with his phallus pointing upward as the stake drives through the testicles and up the shaft. There is no blood, nor the stench of overwhelming iron in the air.  
My eyes roll up to the ceiling. A black, feathered elk dangles below a mural of prodigy- a prophecy. It bellows heavily as the cherubs and angels look and grin upon it, almost as if they find it amusing. Almost. The ropes are tightening with each breath that it draws. I cock my head in curiosity, my face neutral. Its eyes struggle to reach mine. The rope tightens as it cries out for me, for forgiveness. Its blood, black with disease and betrayal, pours from its neck. It floods, splashes, and stains the pews with overwhelming grace.  
A stench of driftwood and iron seizes the building. I look down to see my rather expensive dress shoes, but all that I can see is darkness rising to my knees. It glistens with the same shine in the elk’s eyes as it stares into me- through my mind, through my body. It swallows me. I draw my final breath as I fall slowly and endlessly. I feel at peace with the world in this moment and this moment only. All is quiet except for an almost undetectable drumming in my ears. All is quiet enough.  
All is quiet at last.

* * *

“What have you learned from today, Will?” A masculine, heavily-accented voice rings in my ears, repeating in my head twice before my eyes open. Groggy…  
“When did I fall asleep..?” I ask, an unwanted weakness in my voice makes me scowl. My vision is still blurred, but I make out the familiar figure of a suited, built man sitting in a dark chair across from me. And...a hint of a smile.  
“In the pews of the church. Do you not remember?” the figure replied.  
“Of course I remember, we were just there.” My tone is stern, a bit annoyed. “We took your car..?” I question, blinking a few times to try to wake myself up.  
“On the contrary. I drove yours to help ease your worries when you awoke. As for your memory, I wanted to ensure that you did not sleep for too long.” The figure, a bit clearer now, smiles a bit wider. Short, muted-brown hair brushed gently over the left of his forehead complemented his emerald green suit decorated with navy blue checks. A tie colored similarly to a peacock’s feathers nestled underneath his jacket. Chestnut dress shoes tied the outfit together.  
We stay quiet for a while, exchanging looks. He continues to stare at me as I only give him the occasional glance. The soft and innocent look in his eyes pisses me off.  
“Stop staring at me like that, Hannibal. We both know that you can drop the ‘innocent psychiatrist’ act.” I practically bark at him. I sink in my chair a bit due to the volume of my voice, which judging by that slight tilt of his head, Hannibal noticed. Yet, he smiled. That stupid fucking smile.  
“How long have we known each other, Will?” the man asks after a moment of silence.  
“I don’t know, two...three years?” I respond, looking away with a slight tremble. Unsteady breathing… Anxiety, it must be.  
“Four.” he corrected me with a smile. “And yet, you still call me ‘Dr. Lecter’ or ‘Hannibal’, but not in a warm and welcoming way. Why is this?” My eyes rise slowly to greet his. He smiles, but his eyes show a glint of distrust- forgiveness, maybe. I inhale, but my breath quivers as I am unable to find the words.  
“...I see you as a partner.” I mutter after a momentary pause. I look out of his window in need of a distraction.  
“A partner?” he questions. “Not as a...friend?” His tone is...different. But different how? Sorrow? Surprise? Confusion? Disappointment? Anger? My eyebrows furrow. All of these emotions conflict and constrict each other as if they were a group of starving snakes. I need an answer.  
“I’m not sure…” My eyes meet his, but only for a moment before slipping away to view the outside world once again.  
“I don’t know what to think anymore, Hannibal.” I say after a moment’s pause.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that you liked my writing! I haven't written a story like this in years, and I've honestly missed it.
> 
> Thank you for reading. : )


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